A Companion's Holiday
by Phsbarbie
Summary: A one shot Skyrim story I did for a contest, pairs the Dragonborn Angel with Vilkas. Involves the same characters as my Skyrim series, Tales of the Dragonborn, but follows a different plot line


"Kodlak, no!" I yell, coming in from the cold with my arms full of firewood. Even if I throw the firewood and dive for him, I won't make it in time. I'm about to try anyway when my thirteen year old daughter, Sofie, comes in from the side and scoops him up.

"I've got him, Papa," she says, lifting the 18 month old into her arms and launching him into the air, causing him to giggle loudly. I breath a sigh of relief and make my way to the hearth, setting down the pile of firewood before turning and smacking my brother upside the head. It's done hard enough to make him spit his ale all over the table.

"Hey! What was that for?" he asks, dropping his mug and trying to wipe the ale off his shirt.

"Kody was two feet from you and about to pull that ten foot tree down on his head. You couldn't have reached out to stop him?" Farkas waves his hand at me dismissively.

"Come on, Vilkas. They've gotta learn sometime. You're raising my nephews to be milk drinkers. This is why you should all move back to Jorrvaskr." I cross my arms and exude menace, though it doesn't matter. Farkas isn't afraid of me. I do, however, know one thing he's afraid of.

"Would you like to be the one to tell Angel one of the twins was crushed by the Talosmas tree?" I ask. I have to suppress a grin when he pales slightly. My wife can have that effect on people. I turn to the hearth and warm my hands. "Where's Jory?"

"Alesan took him to the cellar to let him smack around that dummy with a wooden sword," says Aela, coming out of the armory and sitting down at the dining room table. "This is quite the place, Vilkas. I can see why you decided to raise the twins here." I grin at her as I take my seat at the head of the table.

"Thanks, Aela. We remodeled after they were born, added a bedroom or two."

"I don't see what the big deal is," complains Athis, the Companions' only Dunmer. "We have far more rooms than this in Jorrvaskr." He and Torvar, our resident drunk, are joining us from the kitchen, probably because Rayya kicked them out. Torvar snatches an apple from the table and shines it on his shirt.

"Besides, if you'd just all move back to Jorrvaskr we could raise Kodlak and Skjor right, make their namesakes be proud of them. Instead of the milk drinkers they're turning out to be," says Torvar, raising the apple to take a bite out of it. It doesn't make it halfway to his mouth before it's pinned to the wall by Farkas's dagger.

"What did you just call my nephews?" he says menacingly.

"Oh, come on, Farkas," whines Torvar. "I heard you calling them that earlier."

"Doesn't matter," replies Farkas, rising to his feet. "I'm their uncle, I can say what I want."

"Yeah? Well, I'm their Shield-Uncle. What do you have to say to that?" counters Torvar, standing himself and obviously already drunk.

"I don't need to say anything," says Farkas, "this talks for me." He reaches for his blade but before he draws it Rayya is suddenly in the room, staring down the inhabitants.

"If you want to fight you'll do it outside, in the snow. The Dragonborn should be home tonight, and I won't have her coming in to a blood stained dining room," she admonishes. Farkas flushes and sits back down. Torvar isn't as smart.

"Of course, Miss Rayya. I would never want to mess up your handy work. Are you sure I can't help you with anything else, anything at all?" he leers. Rayya cocks an eyebrow at him.

"Boy, the only thing I want from you is to sit down and shut up," she says, heading back to the kitchen. Torvar does just that, met by the raucous laughter of the rest of us.

"Kody and Jory can't turn out that badly," pipes up Ria, though I'm not sure when she and Njada came back into the room. "Just look at Sofie and Alesan, they're no cowards. They have the potential to be great Companions one day." Njada scoffs.

"Yes, but I think that has more to do with the Harbinger than with Vilkas." I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

"You must be joking," I say. "Sofie!"

"Yes, Papa?" she says, coming to the door of her room, Kody toddling close behind her.

"Who taught you how to hunt? And fish? And trap?" I ask her.

"You did, Pa," she says, confused. I smirk at the rest of the table, but Aela doesn't look impressed.

"Sofie, who taught you how to shoot a bow? Or swing a mace? Or unman someone with that dagger on your hip?" she asks. Sofie grins.

"That would be my Ma."

"Case closed," proclaims Njada, taking a swig of her ale.

"It is not!" says Alesan, my twelve year old son, coming up behind me with Jory on his hip. "My Pa is the greatest Pa in the world. And even Mama says she can't beat him with two handed weapons," he continues, handing a delighted Jory to his Uncle Farkas. "Plus, he said that as soon as I can lift his greatsword he's going to teach me how to use it." Though there are some smiles around the table, everyone manages not to laugh. Until we get to Torvar, that is.

"Once you can lift it? Ha! You'd better stick with that wooden sword in your hand since- ah!" Torvar is cut short by a dagger flying at his head, passing by close enough to shave off a patch of hair. "Oh come on!" he says, feeling the bald spot. "What is with you guys and throwing knives?" Sofie shrugs.

"Must run in the family. My Pa taught me how to do that." I grin at her.

"Thanks, Sof," says Alesan, cheerfully.

"No problem, Ali," she responds.

"For what it's worth," says a voice from the doorway, "I think you've done a fantastic job with all four." I look up to see Angel smiling at me and my heart stops for a second, just like the first time I saw her.

"Mama!" cries Alesan and Sofie in unison, rushing towards her. Kody toddles after them while Jory tries his hardest to get away from Farkas and follow suit.

"Surprise!" yells Ria, jumping from her seat. It seems to click that the guest of honor is here, and her call of "surprise" is followed by many others. I follow my children's trail to my wife and give her a kiss.

"Merry Talosmas," I whisper to her. She looks up at me, a twin clinging to each leg, and smiles.

"It's exactly what I wanted."


End file.
